


If I could (I would)

by kkeutkkaji



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 12:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4348540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkeutkkaji/pseuds/kkeutkkaji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo has thousands of reasons why Chanyeol is the worst boss ever. None of them explain why he hasn't just quit. Office AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I could (I would)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [onemorechansoo](http://onemorechansoo.livejournal.com). Dedicated to Gen ♥.

“Oppa?”

“Hm?” Kyungsoo says distractedly, desperately trying to ignore his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“I asked if you were okay? You seem a little out of sorts.”

Kyungsoo’s head shoots up to look at his date. She’s very pretty, and he knows for a fact that they have similar interests. Seulgi had said so when he had set them up.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine. Sorry. You were telling me about your acapella group?” he says. His phone is buzzing incessantly.

Seunghwan hesitates for a second before a smile spreads across her face. “We’re called The Semi Tones. We hold regular showcases. You should come by some time, if you’d like,” she says.

“I’m so sorry,” he says regretfully. “Could you just give me a second to check my phone? It’s been vibrating the whole night and I just want to make sure everything’s okay before I turn it off.”

“Go ahead,” Seunghwan nods.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Kyungsoo sees 15 missed calls and 22 messages from his boss, Chanyeol. The most recent one reads _‘CODE BLUE, COME NOW OR UR FIRED 4 REAL!!!!!’_ and Kyungsoo panics. Code Blue means a level 6 emergency.

“I’m really, _really_ sorry,” he winces. “It’s a work emergency. I have to go.”

Seunghwan checks her watch. “It’s almost 9pm,” she says, raising an immaculate eyebrow in sceptical disbelief.

“I know,” Kyungsoo says, pulling out his wallet and depositing a handful of notes on the table. “But I think my boss might be dying. This should cover it.”

He picks up his messenger bag and bows. “Text me about the next acapella showcase, yeah? We can do this again,” he says. The look on her face says she’s not going to text him any time within the next millennium.

 

 

Kyungsoo jabs the passcode into the security panel of Chanyeol’s lavish penthouse in Daechi and throws the door open, hoping desperately that his boss hasn’t gone and done anything potentially life-threatening like electrocuting himself again. That was one nightmare Kyungsoo prays every day that he won’t have to relive.

“Chanyeol?”

“Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol shouts from the living room, sounding suspiciously alive.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” he chokes out, panting from the exertion.

“Eugene _swallowed_ a spider! What do I do?” Chanyeol cries, and Kyungsoo feels his entire body swell with rage.

“ _That’s_ your level 6 emergency?” Kyungsoo asks, keeping his voice even. _INSIDE VOICE USE YOUR INSIDE VOICE_ he chants in his head.

Eugene is Chanyeol’s beloved pet corgi.

“You texted me _four hours_ after work ended because your dog swallowed a small _insect_?” Kyungsoo clenches his fists.

“Firstly,” Chanyeol says pretentiously, rolling his eyes. Kyungsoo’s blood starts to boil. “Spiders are _arachnids_. Secondly, what if the spider was poisonous? What if Eugene _dies_?”

Kyungsoo looks over to where Eugene is chewing happily on an old slipper and thinks about how he’s just abandoned what could have been an extremely good date and blown 15,000 won on a manic taxi ride across the city to tend to his freakishly huge man-child of a boss. And then he loses it.

“I quit! That’s it! I’m going to go home and look into applying for _sainthood_ because that’s the least I deserve for having to put up with you! I thought you were _DYING._ I’m not coming in to work tomorrow. You can’t fire me because I _quit_. Do you hear me? I QUIT!” Kyungsoo yells, close to tearing his hair out.

Chanyeol frowns. “Why the hell would I be dying?”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo growls through gritted teeth. “I was on a date. Couldn’t you have just called a vet if you really thought Eugene was in danger?”

Chanyeol pauses to consider this. “You were on a date? Why on earth would you do that?” he asks flippantly.

“In case it’s escaped your notice, I happen to be a _real_ _person_ who isn’t alive for the sole purpose of picking up your dry-cleaning. I do partake in social interaction with people other than you and your sister,” Kyungsoo bites out.

“Will you be seeing her again?” Chanyeol asks after a long pause. Kyungsoo’s gaze flicks over his face.

Chanyeol is sitting on the floor in the middle of his living room, wearing the pyjamas Kyungsoo had gotten him as a present two Christmases ago. On the shelf below Chanyeol’s flat screen TV, there is a framed photo of the two of them, arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling into the camera at last year’s New Year’s Countdown Party. Chanyeol’s dark auburn-hair is still damp and curling slightly at the nape of his neck, and he’s staring at Kyungsoo, wide-eyed. His feet are bare, and his expression, unreadable.

Kyungsoo feels his chest tighten slightly and the anger melts away from him.

“No,” he says with a sigh. “Probably not. It was a blind date thing. I don’t think she liked me very much.”

The way Chanyeol scoots to the side to make room for Kyungsoo and says, “Her loss,” is the sole reason Kyungsoo goes into work the next morning.

 

 

Kyungsoo had started working for Chanyeol when his father decided that it was pointless allowing Chanyeol to hire pretty PAs who served more as welcome distractions than useful employees.

“What’s your name?” CEO Park had said, after overhearing Kyungsoo explain a meticulous filing system to Jongin the Intern. He had been doing his routine department inspections.

“Do Kyungsoo, from Marketing, sir,” Kyungsoo answered naively. It’s only now, two years on, that he realises he should’ve just lied and said Sehun from Finance, because at least that was someone worthy of all the pain and stress that Kyungsoo started experiencing after he was promoted to become Chanyeol’s PA.

“Are you lost?” Chanyeol had said when he showed up the next day at Chanyeol’s office.

“I’m your new assistant,” Kyungsoo had said.

Chanyeol frowned. “You’re male,” he said dumbly. “You’re fired. No offence. Where did my old assistant go?”

“Your father hired me. Apparently all your other assistants weren’t doing a good job,” he answers.

“Well, I disagree! Tell him to bring her back!” Chanyeol says.

“No,” Kyungsoo said simply.

“You—you can’t talk to me like that!”

“No, sir,” Kyungsoo corrected sarcastically.

Chanyeol peered at him incredulously for a few moments before shrugging.

“This is a temporary arrangement,” he said warningly.

And that was that.

 

 

In reality, Kyungsoo could probably write several epic novels and produce a whole film trilogy about the thousands of reasons why Chanyeol is the worst boss in the history of all bosses.

Chanyeol is not only the most stereotypical rich corporate idiot on the planet, with his huge apartment and his framed _Korea’s Sexiest Bachelor_ magazine covers and his unnecessarily shiny shoes, but he’s probably the most disorganised Important Person Kyungsoo has ever seen.

Kyungsoo is one hundred and fifty-nine per cent certain that the only reason Chanyeol hasn’t been fired is because his dad owns the company. _Oh the wonders of nepotism_ , Kyungsoo thinks to himself drily as he schedules Chanyeol’s dental appointment.

The most effective way to categorise the events in Chanyeol’s life would be ‘Before Kyungsoo’ and ‘After Kyungsoo’. Kyungsoo doesn’t even _want_ to know how Chanyeol scraped through ‘Before Kyungsoo’.

Once, back when Kyungsoo first started working for Chanyeol, he had been asked to file a report for the deal Park Enterprises had just closed with Wu Incorporated. And so, like any normal person would have done, Kyungsoo had walked over to the filing cabinets in Chanyeol’s office to look for the appropriate file to file the report in.

When he opened the cabinet, though, all he saw was a whole pile of papers that looked like they hadn’t been organised since the day Chanyeol had first taken up his position in the company.

Three years before Kyungsoo even _joined._

“Mr. Park?” Kyungsoo had asked. “Where are all your files?”

Chanyeol had looked up from where he was reading a finance report. “I don’t have a filing system,” he had shrugged.

“You… don’t have a filling system,” Kyungsoo repeated dully.

Chanyeol hummed in agreement, going back to his report.

“You’re the Vice-President of one of the country’s most successful multinational corporations,” said Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol hummed again.

“And you want me to file this report, but you don’t have a filing system.”

“Is there something wrong?” Chanyeol asked.

Of course, Kyungsoo blew a fuse.

Upon careful reflection, Kyungsoo admits that attempting to strangle his boss probably wasn’t his proudest moment, but he likes to think that it was a life-altering moment that brought them closer together as individuals about to embark on a journey of co-operation and partnership.

Chanyeol prefers to refer to it as Near-Death Experience Number 1.

Minor detail, as far as Kyungsoo is concerned.

That was nowhere near the worst of it, though.

“I need coffee,” Chanyeol had said one morning, the moment Kyungsoo had stepped foot into the office.

“How do you take it?” he asked, meaning to head to the coffee machine in the break room.

“Caramel macchiato, skim, extra shot, extra whip, extra hot, sugar free, venti,” Chanyeol had said without blinking.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“It’s my Starbucks order,” Chanyeol had said impatiently. “I need coffee, _now_.”

“It’s his _I’m-a-pretentious-dickwad-with-no-concept-of-taste_ order,” Kyungsoo deadpanned as he and Zitao, PA to Park Enterprises’ R &D director, waited in line for their turn at Starbucks.

He had been sent on a coffee run too.

Zitao snorted. “Wait till you hear Luhan’s,” he said, and Kyungsoo vaguely wondered why he was even doing this job as he listened to Zitao recite an order so long-winded and annoyingly complex, that he sounded more like he was giving a speech than buying a drink.

 

 

Which brings Kyungsoo to the billion-won question:

“Why don’t you just quit?” his roommate asks for the hundredth time in two years when he gets home that night.

Kyungsoo shrugs. “The pay is good,” he answers lamely, ignoring the drumming of his heart in his chest.

Jongdae clearly isn’t convinced.

“You’ve been saying that for over two years,” he says. “You don’t even need the money. Your parents are loaded,” he points out matter-of-factly.

Kyungsoo sighs.

“It’s a highly sought-after position in a prestigious company. Why would I throw away a good thing like that?” he reasons.

Jongdae frowns and says, “You mean why would you throw away _Chanyeol_ like that?”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, making a beeline for his bedroom.

“What’s that?” Jongdae yells from where he’s lounging on their couch. “I can’t hear you over the deafening sound of _DENIAL_.”

 

 

Chanyeol is attractive.

He always has been, and he probably always will.

Kyungsoo isn’t blind.

His boss is a tall, lean man with nicely muscled arms and firm thighs. His suits are stylish and perfectly fitted, and his hair has the most annoying habit of falling across his forehead in a way that makes Kyungsoo’s fingers itch to brush at.

Kyungsoo, as Chanyeol’s assistant, has lists and catalogues and presentations for just about everything. Business presentations, catering catalogues, a list of the different types of smiles Chanyeol has and what they mean. It’s all in his head.

Sometimes, when they’re staying late in Chanyeol’s office working on a presentation for an upcoming meeting, Kyungsoo will look over at Chanyeol and use every ounce of his being to stifle the sigh that rises in his throat, because Chanyeol is just so good-looking, it’s criminal.

And then, Chanyeol will spill coffee down his ?500,000, dry-clean only shirt and the moment is lost, because Kyungsoo will scream bloody murder at having to make an _extra_ trip to the dry cleaners, and Chanyeol will laugh the second ugliest laugh Kyungsoo has ever seen (Sehun from Finance’s being the first). Then Chanyeol will order Kyungsoo’s favourite pizza and everything will go back to square one, and Kyungsoo will sit and drown in his thoughts about killing Chanyeol by kissing him till he runs out of breath. He can see the headline now, live on the 9 o’clock news: _SON OF BUSINESS TYCOON FOUND DEAD IN OFFICE, KISSED TO DEATH._

It’s a real struggle.

It’s not that Kyungsoo is particularly in love with Chanyeol or anything. It’s not that at _all._ He just happens, _COINCIDENTALLY_ , to be an exceedingly attractive person with a half decent personality.

It’s not that Kyungsoo likes him or anything!

Besides, after basically managing Chanyeol’s entire life for the better part of two years, Kyungsoo is acutely aware of the kind of person Chanyeol is. He’s rich, and entitled, and _straight_ , and the list of reasons why Kyungsoo doesn’t like him goes on and on.

Especially when Chanyeol does decisively asshole-y things like this:

 “Kyungsoo, quick, I need you to buy flowers.”

Kyungsoo’s bedroom is completely dark, save from the irritating light coming from his phone, which he’s barely managed, in his sleep-induced haze, to put on speaker mode.

“It’s Jesus-o’clock in the morning. What the fuck do you need with flowers?” Kyungsoo grumbles groggily, hoping Chanyeol can feel the hatred he’s trying to radiate.

Chanyeol clears his throat awkwardly. “You know that model? Jinri?” he whispers, and Kyungsoo pretends his heart doesn’t clench in his chest. He knows where this is going.

“You _didn’t_ ,” Kyungsoo groans into the phone.

“I did,” Chanyeol answers. “You have to be quiet. She’s still in my bed. I need you to get some flowers and bring them to my apartment before she wakes up. Write a card saying sorry, too.”

Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten slowly in his head, hoping that when he opens them again, Chanyeol won’t exist.

“Kyungsoo? Are you there?” Chanyeol says.

_Fuck._

“No. I’m dead. Don’t talk to me,” he mumbles, wondering how long it would take to suffocate himself with his pillow.

Chanyeol’s pout is audible over the phone. “ _Please_ Kyungsoo. _For me?_ I won’t ask again,” he pleads.

“That’s what you said the last time. You live in _Daechi._ ” Kyungsoo mumbles, on the verge of angry tears at the thought of having to take a thirty-minute subway ride all the way to Chanyeol’s apartment and then another forty-minute subway ride to the company building in Yeouido.

“Well, too bad, I’m your boss and I’m ordering you to do this.”

Kyungsoo tries to groan, “I hate you,” into the receiver, but it comes out more like, “Nhsjdhfjseahoo.”

“See you at work,” Chanyeol says smugly and hangs up.

 

 

Jinri wakes up just as Kyungsoo is leaving Chanyeol’s flat.

“How many times have you done this?” she asks, sitting on Chanyeol’s couch, hair rumpled from sleep. “I know why you’re here.”

Kyungsoo hesitates.

“A few times then,” she nods, seeing right through him.

“You deserve better,” Jinri says, breaking the strained silence.

“I’m not—I mean I don’t—” he says uselessly, frozen in place, but she waves a hand, cutting him off.

She smiles, and says, “You don’t owe me an explanation. I simply meant he shouldn’t take advantage of you. Apparently, you had other ideas.”

Kyungsoo feels his face heat up.

Shrugging, she stands. “Either way, my statement stands.”

“I won’t keep you,” she says finally, nodding at the door. “Thank you for the flowers,” she says sincerely.  “White tulips are my favourite.”

 

 

“I quit,” Kyungsoo says later when he gets to work.

Chanyeol nods, smiling into the ridiculous coffee that he texted Kyungsoo to get him before he arrived. Kyungsoo ‘quits’ once every two weeks. “Sure,” he agrees indulgently.

Kyungsoo gives him the finger.

 

 

“What I don’t understand,” Kyungsoo rants passionately to Jongin the Intern (JTI) over lunch, “is why they would want to sleep with Chanyeol anyway. He’s clearly an asshole.”

JTI nods. “Why do _you_ want to sleep with VP Park, then?”

Kyungsoo pauses, kimbap raised halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?” he says, lowering his chopsticks.

JTI sips on his coke. “I said—“

“I know what you said,” Kyungsoo says impatiently. “What makes you think I want to sleep with Chanyeol? Are you insane?”

Shrugging, JTI says, “I just thought—“

“You thought wrong,” Kyungsoo snaps defensively, cutting him off.

Silence.

“Is it really that obvious?” Kyungsoo murmurs.

“No, sunbae?” JTI tries, but Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes and proceeds to glare at JTI.

“Your opinion is irrelevant to me. You’re sleeping with Sehun from Finance,” Kyungsoo tells him sourly. “You clearly have a warped idea of good life choices. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

 

 

To: **do.kyungsoo@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
From: **park.chanyeol@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
Subject: Slacking!!!!!!

i can see u playing solitaire get back to work or ur fired

p.s are u blind????? move the 2 of hearts over 2 the 3rd row

p.p.s we need 2 work late 2nite so make dinner reservation @ petra 4 7pm

 

To: **park.chanyeol@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
From: **do.kyungsoo@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
Subject: RE:Slacking!!!!!!

Are you spying on me? That’s pretty gross and creepy (but completely like you). PLEASE for the love of god, fire me. It can be my Christmas present this year.

P.S I was about to before you rudely interrupted me.

P.P.S If we need to work late, why are we having dinner?

 

To: **do.kyungsoo@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
From: **park.chanyeol@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
Subject: RE:RE:Slacking!!!!!!

ur gonna be working here 4ever now that uve told me u want 2 be fired

p.s liar

p.p.s maybe i just want 2 eat middle eastern food n ur the only other person i know who likes it

p.p.p.s stop questioning me n get back 2 work DO NOT REPLY

 

To: **park.chanyeol@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
From: **do.kyungsoo@park-enterprises.co.kr**  
Subject: RE:RE:RE:Slacking!!!!!!

[[Attachment.jpeg](http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/lego/images/c/c3/39215-grumpy-cat-no-Rwoe.jpeg/revision/latest?cb=20130709214607)]

The laugh Kyungsoo hears from Chanyeol’s office two minutes later leaves Kyungsoo with an unbearably soppy smile on his face the entire day.

If he notices Zitao smiling knowingly at him, he pays no attention.

 

 

“Have you arranged our flights for the Rome trip?” Chanyeol asks one day when he stops by Kyungsoo’s desk. The grumpy cat picture has since been taped to Chanyeol’s door.

“No, I’m rearranging your schedule fir— did you say ‘ _our’_? As in, the two of us, going to Rome?”

“Who else is going to carry my bags?” Chanyeol quips, but Kyungsoo is too excited to kick him in the shin.

“Book a morning flight,” Chanyeol instructs, “and pack a suit. You’re my plus one for the gala.”

Kyungsoo nods excitedly. It takes him 6 hours to realise he doesn’t even own a suit.

 

 

Kyungsoo has never seen a hotel suite so luxurious in his life.

“Can I just stay here forever?” he asks Chanyeol as he looks around the room in amazement and sends an annoying number of photos to Jongdae.

“This bathtub has _marble finishing_ ,” he says. “It probably costs more than my entire apartment. It’s about ten times nicer than _your_ apartment.”

Chanyeol frowns petulantly. “No it’s not. My apartment is awesome.”

“Whatever,” Kyungsoo says dismissively. “Look at this _bed_ ,” he points. “It’s _huge_. Is this Egyptian cotton?”

“It’ll be the most comfortable sleep of your life,” Chanyeol nods, and Kyungsoo freezes.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

“What?” Chanyeol says, taking great, sudden interest in the carpeting. “You didn’t think I’d make you sleep on the couch, did you? There’s more than enough space for the both of us.”

 _Chanyeol is straight Chanyeol is straight Chanyeol is straight Chanyeol is straight,_ Kyungsoo repeats to himself like mantra.

He clears his throat. “Uh. Yeah. Sure,” he says awkwardly. “Thanks, Chanyeol.”

“It’s no problem,” Chanyeol says, voice taking on an odd quality. The room is thick with unidentifiable tension, and Kyungsoo feels a sudden need to run and hide.

“Listen, I’m going to freshen up,” Chanyeol says abruptly. “Order whatever food you want; enough for both of us. I’m starving,” he says, and heads to the bathroom before Kyungsoo can say anything in return.

Kyungsoo tells himself that Chanyeol is just exhausted from the long flight, just as Kyungsoo is. He wanders into the living room of Chanyeol’s— _their_ suite and fishes through the desk drawer to find the room service menu.

A quick flick through tells Kyungsoo that this meal he’s about to order is probably worth more than his life. He settles on a selection of dishes he knows Chanyeol will like.

Chanyeol seems to be back to normal after his shower, so Kyungsoo forces himself to lighten up, cursing his own nerves at the idea of being in such close proximity with Chanyeol.

Dinner is delicious and Kyungsoo gets distracted by how fresh and flavourful everything tastes, generously stuffing his face. He catches Chanyeol watching him in amusement, but shrugs unashamedly.

“It’s so good,” he enthuses, reaching for another forkful of ravioli. “How are you not finishing that?” he says, pointing at Chanyeol’s leftover pasta.

“You can go ahead,” Chanyeol offers, pushing the plate over to Kyungsoo. “I’m not a glutton like you, so I’m going to leave room for dessert.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Weak.”

Dessert is even better than dinner, though, and Kyungsoo agonises over what to eat first.

“Panna cotta’s good,” Chanyeol says, and Kyungsoo reaches over for the small glass filled with the sweetened cream. Chanyeol is right; it’s absolutely delicious and Kyungsoo thinks he might even be spacing out a little at how well-fed he feels.

Kyungsoo sits cross-legged on the living room floor, clutching his little panna cotta to his chest with his eyes shut as he sends up a grateful prayer to the food gods for letting him come to Italy.

Chanyeol is staring at him intensely when he opens his eyes, and Kyungsoo feels his pulse pick up as he meets the strong gaze.

“What?” he says, proud that his voice only shakes slightly.

“You look…” Chanyeol trails off.

Suddenly, the room feels thousands of times smaller, and all the white noise seems to have disappeared. Kyungsoo feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest as Chanyeol continues to look at him.

“…Like a weirdo. It’s just pudding, Kyungsoo. Get it together,” Chanyeol finishes, shaking his head as he laughs.

Glaring as he attempts to swallow his heart where it has risen in his throat, Kyungsoo stretches a leg over to kick Chanyeol hard in the ankle for making him feel like an idiot.

“At least I’m appreciative!” Kyungsoo says gruffly. “Entitled idiot,” he accuses, and Chanyeol’s socked foot prods playfully at his ankle.

“Go shower, o grateful subject. I actually have reading to do before the conference,” Chanyeol smiles, and no matter how many times Kyungsoo’s been on the receiving end, it never stops being blinding.

He returns the smile with a small one of his own instead of responding with a snide comment for once, and Chanyeol looks a little shocked as Kyungsoo gathers their used plates and arranges them neatly for collection.

They don’t talk after that, Chanyeol settling down to prepare for his upcoming meeting, and Kyungsoo heading to the (beautiful, really breath-taking) bathroom for a much-needed shower.

A bubble bath is too tempting to resist, especially in the exquisite bathtub, so Kyungsoo spends ten minutes pottering around, filling the tub up with warm water and dumping load of bath salts in the water. He finishes by crumbling up a bath bar and smiles to himself as he watches his own little cloud form in the pristine tub.

Kyungsoo isn’t sure how long he spends soaking in the tub, listening to music and resolutely _not_ thinking of Chanyeol, but when he climbs out, dries off and drains the bath, the pads of his fingers are all pruney.

Chanyeol is fast asleep when Kyungsoo steps out of the bathroom while towelling his hair dry, notes for the conference abandoned on his chest. Kyungsoo feels a violent swell of fondness in his chest and mentally chides himself for being so disgusting.

He carefully puts Chanyeol’s papers back with into briefcase and, yawning to himself, turns out lights in the room. For a few moments, Kyungsoo just stands by the side of bed, frozen.

 _We’re good friends,_ he reminds himself, ignoring the trembling of his fingers. _There’s nothing weird about this_.

The cool press of the sheets against his freshly showered skin relaxes him a little as he shifts around to find a comfortable position. Chanyeol rolls onto his side and inhales deeply.

“You smell like a cream puff,” he murmurs vaguely before snuggling deeper into his pillow and falling back asleep.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo whispers. Chanyeol’s hair is in his eyes again, and it takes all of Kyungsoo’s strength not to brush the strands away. “I took a bubble bath,” he says to himself.

Kyungsoo doesn’t even want to know how long he stays up, watching Chanyeol’s breathing even out. Eventually he feels like a major creeper, so he turns to the other side and squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in his own clean scent.

 

 

It’s very warm when Kyungsoo wakes up.

The duvet is wrapped around him like a cosy cocoon, and he feels well-rested and far too comfortable. He opens his eyes almost reluctantly and tries to move, when he notices a weight across his chest.

It takes him a few seconds of bleary blinking to realise that said weight is Chanyeol’s _arm_. Craning his neck, he realises, face reddening, that his back completely pressed up against Chanyeol’s broad chest. Mortified, Kyungsoo’s heart pounds in his chest as he keeps very, very still in an attempt not to jostle Chanyeol awake.

Thankfully, Chanyeol stirs a few minutes later, unconsciously breathing in the scent of Kyungsoo’s hair deeply. It takes all of Kyungsoo’s energy not to sigh dreamily. Kyungsoo isn’t sure when Chanyeol becomes aware of The Situation, but ever so slowly, the weight on his chest disappears, as if Chanyeol were the one afraid to wake _him_ up.

A minute or two passes in silence, until something soft is thrown at Kyungsoo, covering his head.

“Kyungsoo-yah,” Chanyeol’s voice booms, nearly giving Kyungsoo a shock. “Get up, you lazy ass. This isn’t a vacation.”

Kyungsoo twitches, making a show of waking up, and turns over with a groan to scowl at Chanyeol. He tosses the rogue pillow aside and gives his boss a onceover, ignoring the traitorous lurch of his stomach at the sight of Chanyeol in his domestic, sleep-rumpled glory; hair sticking up all over the place. The thin tank top Chanyeol slept in only forces Kyungsoo to zero in on his toned arms, and Kyungsoo _swears_ he doesn’t for a second miss the feeling of that same arm warm against him.

“I command you to order me breakfast,” Chanyeol calls out playfully, rummaging through the closet for the suit Kyungsoo had packed for the conference, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

Kyungsoo waits for the sound of running water before he thrashes about among the sheets. “I hate my life,” he says mournfully, resolutely not thinking about Chanyeol in the shower.

 

 

  
“Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol yells for the fifth time in the last two minutes. “We’re going to be late,” he whines.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says sheepishly, stepping out of the bathroom. “I couldn’t tie my tie right. We can go now.”

Chanyeol stares at him, mouth slightly ajar, and Kyungsoo resists the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. Clearing his throat, Chanyeol says softly, “It’s still a little crooked,” and slides over to pull the tie from Kyungsoo’s neck.

His long fingers make quick work of neatening the knot of Kyungsoo’s simple black tie, and Kyungsoo barely has time to notice the close proximity between them. His heart jumps to his throat when Chanyeol smiles down at him, eyes unreadable, and he steps back before he forgets to keep breathing.

“Let’s go,” Kyungsoo says, fetching his shoes, and Chanyeol nods.

The gala is a grand affair, lavishly decorated and excessively catered for, and Kyungsoo is taken aback at the sheer number of VIPs gathered in the same ballroom. It’s definitely not the first event Kyungsoo has ever attended, but it’s definitely the most fancy, thus the need for the suit.

Chanyeol wanders off to greet several of his business partners, clients and investors while Kyungsoo busies himself at the buffet, putting together a plate of food for Chanyeol. He never eats at these things.

After surreptitiously slipping Chanyeol his plate, Kyungsoo heads over to the open bar while the taller male continues to mingle with the rest of the attendees.

“Fancy seeing you here,” comes an amused voice from behind Kyungsoo as he sips on a glass of wine.

Kyungsoo breaks into a grin. The voice is impossible not to recognise.

“Baekhyun,” he smiles, spinning around.

A man of his height, dressed in a pristine, form-fitting black suit, complete with a matching bowtie, grins back at him. “The one and only.”

Byun Baekhyun is the son of South Korea’s most successful publishing mogul, and a regular at events like this. He’s about every bit as loud and glamorous as Kyungsoo is not, but his razor-sharp sense of humour and comfortable, laid-back demeanour makes Kyungsoo extremely fond of him, and grateful for his presence.

“I see Chanyeol is off pretending to be important,” he jokes good-naturedly, leaning against the bar. “You look bored. Exceedingly beautiful, but bored. Nice suit,” he winks, salacious.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Baekhyun is also South Korea’s biggest flirt.

“I’m not _bored_ ,” Kyungsoo says unconvincingly. “I’m just a little… out of my depth. You know I don’t actually enjoy attending these things,” he admits.

“Tell me about it,” Baekhyun replies, taking a sip from his champagne flute. “I’m glad you’re here, though. You make them so much more interesting.”

“Knock it off,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, biting back a laugh.

Baekhyun sets his drink on the bar counter and raises his hands up in defence. “I’m being honest. I like it when you’re around,” he says simply. Then his grin is back, and he’s leaning closer.

“It makes me wish I could see you all the time. Maybe you should come and work for me sometime. Put that Language degree to good use,” he says.

Kyungsoo drains his glass and smiles. “A tempting offer, I promise you, but I’m sure you know what my answer is. I like it where I am. It’s comfortable.”

The look on Baekhyun’s face is sceptical, like he’s not at all convinced of Kyungsoo’s words, but his face changes when he lifts his gaze. “His Majesty approaches,” he sighs ruefully. “And he looks pretty pissed.”

Kyungsoo turns his head and indeed, Chanyeol is striding over, not looking happy at all.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol greets sourly with a stiff nod.

Baekhyun’s responding grin is teasing. “Yeol. I haven’t seen you since the Kims’ Fundraiser. Junmyeon-hyung was asking about you the other day,” he says conversationally.

“Mm, yeah, that’s nice. I’ll give him a call,” Chanyeol says impatiently. “It was really nice to see you, and everything, but Kyungsoo and I need to leave now.”

Kyungsoo sets his glass on the bar. “Already? It’s barely been an hour. You haven’t even spoken to the guy from Nakamoto Holdings, and he’s been in contact for nearly a month,” he frowns.

“I told his secretary to arrange a meeting when I fly to Tokyo to check on our Japanese branch,” Chanyeol huffs.

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun exchange a look, and Baekhyun raises his eyebrows knowingly.

“Don’t let me get in the way,” he says politely. “I’ll see you at Jessica-noona’s launch?”

“Are you not attending Taemin’s wedding?” Chanyeol asks, curiosity momentarily dampening his haste.

Baekhyun _ah_ s. “How silly of me to forget. Yes, of course I’ll be there. Will you perhaps be bringing your lovely assistant as your plus one again? It really does make these events much more worth showing up for.”

Kyungsoo blushes.

“None of your business,” Chanyeol says gruffly. “Let’s go,” he says, turning to look meaningfully at Kyungsoo before walking off.

Kyungsoo shoots Baekhyun an apologetic smile. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” he rolls his eyes.

Baekhyun’s secretive smile makes Kyungsoo nervous. “Oh, but I do,” he winks. “Keep in touch,” he says and gives a small wave, before he slips away to talk to someone else.

 

 

“You shouldn’t be so trusting of Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says sharply when Kyungsoo catches up with him. “When did you become so friendly?”

“The Jungs’ charity lunch last year? Sometime then, maybe?” Kyungsoo answers. “I spoke to him while you were off somewhere with Joohyun-sshi,” he says, slightly bitter.

Chanyeol is quiet for a moment before he says, “He’s just interested because you’re not a toy he can steal away from me this time.”

That stings.

“Yeah, because there’s no way anyone would derive any actual enjoyment from being in my company, right?” Kyungsoo says harshly.

Chanyeol tenses beside him. “That’s—I didn’t mean it that way. I—“ he stutters.

Kyungsoo sighs, cutting him off. “I know what you meant, okay? It’s fine,” he says quietly. “Let’s just drop it.”

The drive back to the hotel is completely silent, and Kyungsoo barely spares Chanyeol a glance as he empties the pockets of his slacks and heads straight for a shower.

He knows Chanyeol was just trying to show some kind of stunted concern, and he’s angrier at himself than anyone else for letting his feelings cloud his understanding of the fact that at the end of the day, Chanyeol will always be his boss, and Kyungsoo will always be his PA.

 

 

Chanyeol has changed out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt when Kyungsoo steps out of the bathroom.

“I’m sorry about just now,” he says, standing immediately. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Kyungsoo waves him off. “It’s fine, Chanyeol. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol puffs out in relief.

“Why did we have to leave the gala so early?” Kyungsoo changes the subject, moving over to sit on the couch.

“I thought you might like to see the city,” Chanyeol answers, hesitant. “I’ll be in meetings the whole of tomorrow, and we leave the next day. We shouldn’t let it go to waste, right?”

Kyungsoo nods slowly. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I would love that.”

 

 

“Seriously? You really are a pretentious idiot,” Kyungsoo grins, shaking his head at the sight of the sleek white convertible Chanyeol directs him to.

The taller man grins. “When in Rome, drive a Maserati, right?”

 

 

Rome by night, in Kyungsoo’s humble opinion, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. They drive past places Kyungsoo has only seen in travel documentaries on TV, and seeing St. Peter’s and the Pantheon lit up is so surreal it takes his breath away.

Chanyeol stops the car for gelato, and Kyungsoo is having too good of a time to complain when Chanyeol steals all of his when he decides he doesn’t like his own flavour.

They see the Colosseum next, and for a while, all Kyungsoo can do is stand and stare in wonder at the immensity of the world-famous monument. He manages to drag Chanyeol around as he explores what he can of the building, the history nerd in him emerging in full force.

“That was brilliant,” Kyungsoo breathes happily when they’re back in the car. They’re parked in the back lot of the hotel in front of a large field. “Thank you for showing me Rome, Chanyeol.”

“My pleasure,” Chanyeol answers easily. “The city’s never been this interesting to me.”

It’s quiet for a while after that, as they sit in Chanyeol’s rented convertible and stare at the night sky. There’s a scattering of stars in the sky Kyungsoo doesn’t expect at all, what with the light pollution in the city, but he figures they’ve gone out on a good thing, and lets himself drink in the sight.

Unable to resist, his gaze flicks over to Chanyeol, only to see Chanyeol watching him too.

He holds the gaze, as if memorising the exact, unreadable look in Chanyeol’s eyes.

“Why did you ask me to come to Rome with you?” Kyungsoo whispers, breaking the silence.

Chanyeol leans in ever so slightly, inching his face closer. Kyungsoo can feel the warm puffs of his breath across his mouth, and his heart is practically slamming against his ribcage.

Chanyeol swallows. “I wanted—“ he starts to say, but the universe must have some sort of vendetta against Kyungsoo, because Chanyeol’s phone chooses that exact moment to ring loudly in his pocket, ruining the moment completely.

Kyungsoo resists the urge to curse aloud as Chanyeol answers the call. He doesn’t pay attention to what Chanyeol is saying, choosing instead to open a message he received earlier.

FROM ** Byun Baekhyun ** **(Byun Publishing)** 1h ago   
_ The offer was a real one. My door’s always open. _

Kyungsoo’s thumb hovers over the _delete_ button, but is interrupted when Chanyeol turns back to him.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says, pocketing his phone. “It was my father, asking how the conference went.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head, his own phone abandoned.

Chanyeol chews on his bottom lip. “About just now…” he trails off, and Kyungsoo’s stomach twists. Chanyeol looks so uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says quickly. “Nothing happened. It didn’t mean anything.”

Chanyeol frowns slightly before he gives a short nod. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Forgotten.”

The pain that blooms in Kyungsoo’s chest lasts all the way back to Seoul.

 

 

True to his word, Chanyeol never brings up what Kyungsoo has taken to referring to as What Happened in Rome. He really should’ve known better in the first place. Chanyeol was, after all, straight. He must have been all sorts of freaked up, and Kyungsoo and thanks the gods that they didn’t actually k*ss, because that would’ve been too much for him to handle.

Chanyeol doesn’t act too much differently from the way he did before, aside from the fact that he feels a little distant, but Kyungsoo figures that, given his increasingly busy schedule, it’s no real surprise.

After all, there’s no way Kyungsoo can take things like the way Chanyeol lets him go home when he has to stay late for meetings to heart. The distance, Kyungsoo decides one day as he third wheels JTI and Sehun from Finance for lunch, is inevitable, and in many ways, welcome.

In a shocking turn of events, Seunghwan actually does text him one morning, asking if he wanted to get dinner after work, and Kyungsoo replies with a simple, ‘Sure’, figuring that being given a second chance to earn her friendship at the very least is nothing short of a good thing.

He goes to work in a nice button-down and slacks that day instead of his usual sweater and jeans combo, and Chanyeol actually stops by his desk to ask him about it.

“I’m meeting someone after work,” he says, secretly hoping for some sign that Chanyeol might be affected by this information.

He’s disappointed, though, as Chanyeol simply nods and flashes him a thumbs-up before he heads back into his office, shutting the door tightly behind him.

 

 

“Kyungsoo, could you come in here for a second? I need your help with something,” Chanyeol says nervously over the phone. It’s been about a month since What Happened in Rome.

The date with Seunghwan had been an interesting one, involving them going back to her apartment while Kyungsoo drunkenly ranted on her shoulder about his increasingly pathetic and painful situation with his feelings and Chanyeol. She had been very nice about it, though nowhere near as intoxicated Kyungsoo, and had let him sleep in her guest room. She even made him breakfast and they had gone to see a film the next day. She was turning out to be a _much_ better best friend than Jongdae.

“Coming,” Kyungsoo answers.

He pushes Chanyeol’s door open, vaguely wondering what Chanyeol might want, but he catches sight of the office and stops dead in his tracks.

There are files and papers scattered all over the floor, and the entire room is in a state of disarray. Chanyeol is standing by his desk looking sheepish and far too guilty for Kyungsoo’s liking. His sleeves are rolled up, jacket discarded, and he’s running a hand through his hair nervously.

“ _What_ have you _done_?” Kyungsoo says, dangerously low.

Chanyeol winces. “I… I tried to look for a report.”

Kyungsoo exhales slowly. “Do _not_ talk to me right now or I might just stab you with the first sharp object I find. Go and sit at my desk and be very, _very_ quiet while I attempt to put almost _three years_ of work back into order. Don’t touch _anything_ , because I will know,” he instructs slowly, not even trusting himself to look at Chanyeol as he walks out of the room for fear of exploding.

It takes over an hour and a half just for Kyungsoo to pick all the papers up off of the floor and arrange them into piles, ready to be filed back into their respective folders. He lets Chanyeol back into his office after that, commanding him to sit on the small couch and listen extremely carefully to his explanation.

“The files are _colour-coded_ , and then filed chronologically, and then finally, alphabetically. The colours denote the type of document in the file; so investment transactions, finance reports, client contracts, and so on. They are then filed according to year, and within each year, according to the alphabet that corresponds to the name of the client or company,” Kyungsoo explains slowly.

Chanyeol nods in response, seemingly terrified to agitate Kyungsoo any further.

“You can stop looking like a deer in the headlights now,” Kyungsoo says with a sigh. “I would never really stab you.”

Chanyeol looks thoroughly unconvinced, even when Kyungsoo shoots him a smile, so Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and walks over to flick Chanyeol gently on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he says with a gentle smile, nodding at the piles of papers on Chanyeol’s newly organised desk. “You made this mess. You should help clean it up.”

 

 

“Put these in the top drawer. _Neatly_ ,” Kyungsoo instructs.

Chanyeol smirks arrogantly. “You’re such a shortie,” he says, giving Kyungsoo a playful onceover.

“Give me those,” Kyungsoo growls, snatching the folders out of Chanyeol’s hands. “I’m not short. You’re just freakishly tall,” he retorts.

Pushing Chanyeol aside lightly, Kyungsoo reaches up to try and arrange the folders neatly. It’s a bit of a stretch, and he has to stand on his tiptoes just to reach the top of the cabinet.

“Let me, before you hurt yourself,” Chanyeol’s low voice murmurs from behind, and Kyungsoo feels the folders being plucked out of his hands before he can protest. Chanyeol doesn’t make any room for Kyungsoo to move out of the way, simply reaches up, over Kyungsoo’s shoulders, and effortlessly pushes the files into place.

Kyungsoo turns around slowly so he’s facing Chanyeol’s, meaning to move, but Chanyeol is rooted to the spot, staring at the top cabinet, and Kyungsoo is trapped between the cool metal of the cabinet and Chanyeol’s warm, broad chest.

“There,” Chanyeol says quietly. “All done.”

Neither of them moves, as though frozen, and the air in the room grows thick and static-y. Kyungsoo can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the steady rise and fall of Chanyeol’s chest

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says thickly. Kyungsoo looks up to find Chanyeol staring at him, strong and intense, they way he did all those nights ago in Rome.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo replies, breath hitching in his throat, and before he can change his mind, reaches up to grab hold of Chanyeol’s collar and pulls him down into a kiss.

Chanyeol’s hands fly up to thread through Kyungsoo’s hair almost immediately, and he seems to melt into the kiss. Chanyeol gasps as Kyungsoo presses their mouths together insistently, and Kyungsoo takes the opportunity to swipe their tongues together. This is everything Kyungsoo has wanted for so, _so long_ , and he thinks he’s quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of Chanyeol’s hands tugging on the locks of his hair, and the slide of Chanyeol’s warm mouth against his own.

Kyungsoo tightens his hold on the back of Chanyeol’s neck, trying to pull him closer (where he _belongs,_ Kyungsoo thinks hazily), and everything feels so good and so right—

Until Chanyeol wrenches their mouths apart and takes a sudden step back, panting hard. Kyungsoo feels a burst of heat at the sight of his mouth, red and slick with saliva, and his rumpled shirt, knowing that _he did that_.

“I lied,” Kyungsoo blurts out, trying to catch his breath. “I lied about what I said when we were in the car in Rome. Nothing happened, but I wish it did, and I wish it meant— well, to me, it already means something. It means _everything_ ,” he says in a rush.

“It means everything,” he repeats shakily. “Everything you do means _everything_ to me, because— because I love you,” he says before he can stop himself.

And then again, more certain: “I love you.”

Chanyeol looks frozen in place, staring at Kyungsoo with wide-eyed shock.

“Chanyeol—“ Kyungsoo starts to say, cut off when Chanyeol blurts out, “I’m straight.”

Kyungsoo feels the words like a forceful punch to his gut.

“I can’t—“ Chanyeol is saying, but Kyungsoo barely hears him, training his eyes on the floor and willing the tears forming in his eyes not to spill.

“Kyungsoo—“ Chanyeol starts to say, but Kyungsoo takes a shuddery breath and walks out of the room. He grabs his messenger bag, shaking like a leaf, and heads straight home, not even caring that he’s not off work for another two hours.

 

 

Jongdae is stretched out on their couch watching a rerun of Dream High when Kyungsoo steps into their flat.

“’Soo?” he says, sitting up. “You’re early,” he comments happily, before he notices Kyungsoo’s shaking hands and tear-stained face.

He bolts from the couch and envelops his best friend in a crushing hug, rubbing soothing circles on Kyungsoo’s back as his bag falls to the floor and he buries his face in the crook of Jongdae’s neck.

“I—“ Kyungsoo croaks out, but Jongdae hushes him gently.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

 

 

“I’m going to kill him,” Jongdae says casually as he strokes Kyungsoo’s hair. They’re huddled together on the couch, freshly showered, Kyungsoo’s head resting in Jongdae’s lap.

Kyungsoo laughs sadly. “It’s fine, Jongdae. It’s my fault. I was stupid,” he says, nose stuffy.

“He kissed back!” Jongdae argues with a scowl. “Why would he kiss back if he didn’t want to?”

Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo allows himself to briefly imagine the feeling of Chanyeol’s mouth against his own, before he pushes away the thought. It’s too much.

“It’s not fair of him to just do whatever he likes when it’s convenient,” Jongdae points out. “You’re still a person with feelings, even if he’s your boss.”

“I told him I love him,” Kyungsoo says softly after a pause.

Jongdae clears his throat. “Oh,” he says uselessly.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“What are you going to do?” Jongdae asks.

Kyungsoo sighs.

 

 

TO ** Byun Baekhyun ** **(Byun Publishing)** 1:27am   
_ Is that job offer still on the table? _

FROM ** Byun Baekhyun ** **(Byun Publishing)** 1:44am   
_ Of course. _

 

 

“I don’t understand,” Chanyeol says flatly.

Steeling himself, Kyungsoo answers. “It’s my letter of resignation.”

“I can see that,” Chanyeol says, eyeing the envelope on his desk. “I’m saying I don’t understand _why_ you’re giving it to me.”

“Because I’m resigning. This is my two weeks’ notice,” Kyungsoo says, keeping his voice steady. Looking at Chanyeol makes him feel mildly sick.

Chanyeol stands abruptly, and Kyungsoo winces at the harsh sound of the chair scraping across the floor.

“You— you can’t,” Chanyeol says, voice trembling. “I forbid it.”

Kyungsoo feels a wave of anger wash over him. “You _forbid_ it?” he repeats bitterly. “I’m sorry, but you have no right. This is my choice, and I’m doing it.”

“Where will you go on such short notice?” Chanyeol challenges. “You can’t just do sit around and do nothing.”

Sighing shakily, Kyungsoo says, “I’ve been offered a job. At Byun Publishing. I accepted.”

Chanyeol seems to wither at this, turning away from Kyungsoo to look out the large, glass windows overlooking the rest of the business district.

“No,” he says quietly. “I’m not approving this.”

“You can’t just expect me to be here running around for you forever,” Kyungsoo says bitterly. “I know I’m just the PA, but I’m still a _person_ ,” he says, repeating Jongdae’s words from the night before.

“The department needs you. The company— _I_ need you,” Chanyeol says pleadingly, turning back to face Kyungsoo again.

Kyungsoo smiles sadly. “I think that’s the problem,” he says softly. “I want to be somewhere where someone _wants_ me.”

 

 

Kyungsoo barely sees Chanyeol at all over the next two weeks.

He’s in his office before Kyungsoo arrives, and he’s still working when Kyungsoo leaves. He doesn’t call Kyungsoo in for anything, or send him any emails, save for short replies of _Thank you_ , when Kyungsoo forwards him anything work-related.

On the Thursday right before he’s due to leave, Kyungsoo comes in extra early to rearrange Chanyeol’s filing system.  He takes everything out and starts from scratch, carefully arranging everything. His heart twinges painfully in his chest when he drags a chair over to fill the top drawer of the cabinet.

Chanyeol looks surprised to see him when he comes in an hour later.

“I’ve redone the filing system so it’s easier for the next person to use,” he explains, handing Chanyeol a piece of paper with an index of folders and documents all neatly printed. “It’s in numerical order now. Much less complicated,” he says with a small smile.

Chanyeol doesn’t respond; just keeps staring at the piece of paper in his hands.

The silence in the room is deafening.

“Is there anything else you wanted, Mr. Park?” Kyungsoo says, ignoring how foreign the words feel on his tongue.

“No,” Chanyeol says, barely audible. “That’s all.”

 

 

JTI and Sehun from Finance throw Kyungsoo a farewell party on the last day. More people come than Kyungsoo expected, and Sehun just shrugs, looping an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

“I may, or may not have e-mailed the entire office,” he says with a grin. “For some strange reason, all these people decided they’re going to miss you.”

Kyungsoo pinches his sides in mock anger. “Well it’s good to know that as much as I won’t miss you, you won’t miss me either.”

Sehun sighs happily. “You’re a menace, and I’m happy you’re going,” he says fondly. “I think Jongin’s about to cry, though,” he says, nodding over to where his boyfriend is looking sadly at a big tribute poster, full of pictures of Kyungsoo and various people throughout the company and post-it notes with what everyone identified as ‘Best of Kyungsoo’ quotes.

“It feels like just yesterday we were having lunch together,” JTI sniffles, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“We _did_ have lunch together yesterday, you idiot,” he chides, but the words have no bite, and Kyungsoo feels himself getting a little misty-eyed.

“It’s a pity VP Park’s working late,” Luhan says, shaking his head. “I was so sure he would make it.”

Kyungsoo deflates a little at that. _So was I,_ he wants to say, but he can’t, not really, because for the first time in years, he doesn’t actually know what’s going on with Chanyeol.

It’s a sad feeling.

 

 

It’s about 8 in the morning the next day when Kyungsoo wakes up to the sound his front door being slammed.

He vaguely thinks he hears Jongdae yell something that sounds like, “You’re banned from the premises!”

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Have you seen how fucking early it is?”

Jongdae hesitates. “You have a… visitor,” he says evenly.

Kyungsoo blinks. “And you’re yelling at him or her because…?”

“Go brush your teeth,” Jongdae says out of the blue. “You’ll see. I’m going to work, okay?”

Kyungsoo only obeys when Jongdae pushes him hard towards their shared bathroom, hissing, “ _Go!_ ”

He emerges several minutes later to see Chanyeol standing in the middle of his tiny living room, eyes darting nervously around the room. Kyungsoo hates the way his stomach lurches at the sight of Chanyeol dressed down in a plain, white, threadbare shirt and ripped jeans. His hair is still damp, curling at the nape of his neck.

“Hi,” he says lightly, and Kyungsoo returns the greeting.

For a few minutes, Chanyeol doesn’t move closer, but continues to fidget, eyes glued to the floor.

“Why—“ Kyungsoo starts to say in an attempt to break the thick silence, but at the same time, Chanyeol says, “Kyungsoo.”

“Go ahead,” Chanyeol says quickly.

Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Why are you here?” he asks quietly.

“I, uh,” Chanyeol says intelligently. “I came to give you this,” he says, and automatically sticks out his hands, clutching onto a small, poorly-wrapped item.

“Should I open it now?” Kyungsoo says as he walks over slowly to accept it. His heart is hammering in his chest.

Chanyeol nods lightly. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Kyungsoo pulls at the wrapping, inwardly cursing his trembling fingers.

It’s the photo of the two of them from the New Year’s Party.

“It’s your going away present,” Chanyeol explains. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says, placing the frame on the coffee table, desperately willing away the clenching of his chest.

“That’s not— It isn’t the only reason I came,” Chanyeol says hesitantly.

“I came to apologise,” he starts, “because I’ve been an idiot, about so many things. I’ve spent the last three years bossing you around and taking advantage of you completely because I never had any reason to think you wouldn’t be around to give me hell for it.”

“But then I thought about it, and I realised that really, you could’ve quit ages ago, but you just never did, and I thought, _thank god_ , because you’re the most important person in my life, quite literally. I sat, and I thought about it for hours. Kyungsoo _cares_.”

“And then it hit me that, for the first time in ages, I actually care, too. I think,” Chanyeol says, letting out a shaky laugh, “that maybe I care _too much_ , because it annoys me when you have lunch with Jongin the Intern, or when you laugh at emails from Jongdae, and I absolutely _hate it_ when you let Baekhyun flirt with you. I swear, I was about to punch him in the jaw back at that gala.”

“Because I started to realise that maybe, I don’t just _care_. Maybe, it’s so much more than that, I thought, and that terrified me because I’m not _good_ at managing things. I’ve always just had people to go around and take care of things for me. It was fine for a while, because I thought you didn’t want me after Rome, and that was okay, because at least I didn’t have to _deal_ with that head-on. But then you kissed me the other day, and said all those things, and I freaked out because… Because I’m terrified, and I don’t want to mess up something really important.” Chanyeol says in a rush, and Kyungsoo feels a surge of hope.

“But it’s worth it, because I _want_ you,” he says forcefully. “I’ve wanted you for _so long_ without even knowing it. So, please,” Chanyeol chokes out, desperate. “Please don’t make me live without you. Because I _can’t_ , and it’s the last thing on Earth that I could _ever_ want, especially because—” he stops, and Kyungsoo’s heart jumps to his throat.

“Because?” Kyungsoo whispers, hoping, praying _waiting_.

And then he hears it:

“Because I love you,” Chanyeol answers, and then he’s surging forward to pull Kyungsoo into a searing kiss.

Kyungsoo gasps against Chanyeol’s mouth as the taller man tightens his grip around Kyungsoo’s waist and hauls him up, pushing him up against the nearest wall, but Chanyeol is unfazed by Kyungsoo’s shock, and simply continues to press kisses against his lips.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo breathes out, curling his fingers into Chanyeol’s shoulders. “Wait,” he says, and Chanyeol looks up at him hazily.

“Is this— are you sure?” Kyungsoo says.

The smile that Chanyeol breaks into in response is brilliant and blinding. “I love you,” he repeats, leaning in to whisper it against Kyungsoo’s mouth. “And I want you. I want what you want.”

Kyungsoo feels his cheeks heat up. Winding his arms loosely around Chanyeol’s neck for better purchase, he leans forward to press a butterfly kiss against Chanyeol’s lips. “I love you,” he whispers, and the whole thing feels so gross and soppy and like _everything_ Kyungsoo has ever wanted.

“Good,” Chanyeol says, and closes the distance between them again.

 

 

Later, Kyungsoo stumbles into the kitchen after a nap to find Chanyeol sheepishly attempting to clean up a puddle of spilt coffee. Rolling his eyes, he reaches into a drawer for the right cloth and shoos Chanyeol away, getting rid of the mess in no time.

Then, Chanyeol’s coffee-stained shirt abandoned, they make out on Kyungsoo’s little couch, Kyungsoo mouthing hotly across Chanyeol’s collarbone as they grind their erections together, frantically seeking friction.

Pushing Kyungsoo back against the sofa, Chanyeol fumbles with the drawstring on Kyungsoo’s ratty sweatpants before finally tugging them down and palming Kyungsoo’s hardening cock through his briefs as Kyungsoo tosses his head back with a moan.

Chanyeol leans down to mouth at Kyungsoo’s clothed erection before pulling his underwear off and curling his hand around Kyungsoo’s dick, spreading the precome that spurts from the tip to ease the friction.

“Chanyeol, please,” Kyungsoo whines, bucking into the tight ring Chanyeol’s fingers form around his dick. Chanyeol jerks him off messily and without rhythm, but Kyungsoo is too far-gone with lust and desire after having wanted this for so long that it feels better than anything else ever has, especially when Chanyeol twists his wrist just the way he likes it.

“I’m close,” he chokes out, moaning at the sight of Chanyeol’s own hand working himself furiously in his jeans and nearly thrashing when Chanyeol leans down to suck teasingly at the head of his cock.

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” Kyungsoo gasps as he comes, and Chanyeol continues to jack him as he rides out his orgasm. Mustering all his energy, he sits up and pushes Chanyeol’s hand away, pulling down his jeans and boxer briefs.

He sucks Chanyeol off quickly, hollowing his cheeks as Chanyeol thrusts shallowly into his mouth. Kyungsoo digs his tongue into the slit of Chanyeol’s cock and Chanyeol groans loudly, fingers curling tightly in Kyungsoo’s hair. “ _Fuck,_ Kyungsoo, I’m—“ he chokes out, before he’s coming and Kyungsoo milks his orgasm, swallowing and sucking Chanyeol clean.

“I love you,” Chanyeol murmurs, sluggish in his post-orgasm haze, and reaches over clumsily to pull Kyungsoo towards him, burying his face in Kyungsoo’s hair.

“For _fucks’_ sake, guys, that’s disgusting. There is come _flaking off_ the couch. I’ve known you since middle school, Kyungsoo, _ew_ ,” Jongdae screeches, hours later, when he gets back from work. Kyungsoo laughs, and tries to move, but Chanyeol simply tightens his hold around Kyungsoo’s waist and cuddles him tighter.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all.

_ Even _ later, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol take a shower together, which ends up being a massive waste of water, but totally worth it. Then, Kyungsoo calls Baekhyun and apologises over Skype, but the other man will wave him off in a heartbeat to ask about his ‘cute roommate’, blush colouring his cheeks. Kyungsoo laughs, and tells him _maybe._ Then, they order pizza and join Jongdae on the floor and watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which, for some stupid reason, Chanyeol has never seen.

And finally, much, much later, Kyungsoo places the framed photo of him and Chanyeol on his bedside table before Chanyeol tackles him onto the bed, nearly crushing him under his weight.

“Get off of me, you idiot,” Kyungsoo grumbles, but quickly defrosts as Chanyeol showers him with butterfly kisses.

“ _Your_ idiot,” Chanyeol says with pride, and Kyungsoo’s heart swells.

“Tragic,” he says, breaking into a smile so wide it makes his cheeks hurt.

It’s every bit worth the pain when Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and presses a small kiss to neck. “Nah,” he whispers. “It’s perfect.”

And _yeah_ , Kyungsoo figures.

It really is.

_-fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> See the note at the end of [this](http://kkeutkkaji.livejournal.com/1953.html) LJ post for a longer author's note ^^


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